


Like a Thief

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 08:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2615684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shut up,” Tim mutters, kicking Dick under the table, shoulders tight. “Barbara needed a favor.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Found this while going through my WiP folder and cleaned it up a bit. :D?

The name on the ID badge attached to the lanyard around Tim's neck reads _Hill, Caroline_ in strong black letters. Dick's eyes linger over the picture just below, typically unflattering, harsh lighting doing nothing to hide the lines of exhaustion and stress that have carried over.

“Shut up,” Tim mutters, kicking Dick under the table, shoulders tight. “Barbara needed a favor.”

Dick winces because Tim never pulls his hits when he's this kind of irritated. Working undercover and having to deal with problems like Barbara's terrible sense or humor, people getting a little too handsy, and Tim reaching his breaking point. (Tim had looked like he was seriously thinking about nerve-striking the guy who'd had him backed into a corner, all smooth pick-up lines and _leaning_ when Dick had shown up.)

Dick pushes his plate of fries closer to Tim, who needs them more than he does. Tim looks like he's been working himself too hard again, and that's something Dick's going to have to talk to him about, but for the moment this will have ton do.

Outside the cozy little diner the rain's still coming down hard, turning everything past the windows into smears of color and light and movement. Inside there's Tim and the dark circles under his eyes and the way Caroline weighs heavy on Tim.

“So tell me about the case you're working on.” 

Tim eyes him warily. “It's not my case, I was just getting information for Barbara.” He pokes at the fries. “I just need a little longer to get everything she needs, and it would look suspicious if Caroline left in the middle of her shift.”

“Speaking of,” Dick says. 

Tim makes a face. “I lost a bet.” 

Dick tries, he does, but. It's not often Tim needs one of them, needs Dick, to swoop in like a night in shining armor to defend his virtue. (Not that Tim had actually needed him this time, but Barbara had decided it was necessary, to Tim's clear annoyance.)

“It's not funny, Dick!”

Dick's pretty sure he's going to have one hell of a bruise later, but it's so totally worth the look on Tim's face as he finally gives in to the laughter.

********

Things have been quiet on his end of things, no major cases, so Dick doesn't have reason to say no to when Barbara calls him and asks for a favor, even less of one when she tells him Tim's involved.

_“It's simple, just stand there and look pretty, Tim will take care of the rest,” Barbara had said, amusement thick in her voice. “A day or two of your time at the most.”_

There's not much for Dick to do on the case other than put in appearances to take Tim out to lunch and pick him up from the clinic after his shift ends. He pretends he doesn't see the annoyance in Tim's expression that that much is even necessary. The way his hands clench when he hears a certain voice calling out to him when he gets onto the bike behind Dick when he picks him up. (The way he holds himself tight and angry, relaxing slightly when they put enough distance from the clinic.)

********

Tim looks less hunted when Dick comes to pick him up from the clinic after his shift the last day of the case. Shooting Dick looks like he thinks Dick had something to do with it, dealing with his would-be suitor. (Dick pretends he doesn't notice the irritation, the anger, but he doesn't forget and more importantly neither does Barbara who is infinitely more dangerous than he is in this scenario.)

Tim clearly isn't happy about Dick escorting him up up to his apartment, but he's too tired to put up much of an argument.

“Dick - “

“What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't make sure you got home safe, Caroline?”

Tim narrows his eyes at Dick, but he looks even worse than he did a few days ago, and there's a distinctly raccoonish quality about him.

“Sleep,” Dick says, sliding Tim's bag off his shoulder and onto the couch as they pass it. He places a hand in the small of Tim's back and gently guides him away from obstacles in his path. (Such as walls.)

“I can handle the rest myself,” Tim says, and then just stares at his bed for a long moment in what looks like confusion.

Dick bumps him with his hip and grins at the look Tim gives him before he disappears into the bathroom just off the bedroom and takes the opportunity for a little harmless snooping. Idly poking around and fogging up the bathroom mirror with his breath to leave a smiley face for Tim to find the next time he takes a shower. 

“You're still here?”

“Ouch, Tim. Straight through the heart,” Dick says, turning to see Tim standing in the doorway. 

Tim rolls his eyes, corners of his mouth turning up in a tired smile as he turns away. “Thanks, but. You don't have to stay.”

Dick shrugs, following Tim back into the bedroom. Maybe in Tim's world he doesn't, but in Dick's there was no question. One day Tim will get it, but until then. “Nice boxers.”

Tim's wearing an old shirt that Dick is sure used to be his, and black boxers with little red S-shields all over it.

“Kon,” Tim says, when he notices Dick's smirk. “And shut up.”

“What?” Dick asks. “It was a sincere compliment.”

Tim gives him one of his deeply suspicious looks and skirts around him to get to the bed. He slides in under the covers and stares at Dick. “Are you planning on watching me sleep? Because, you know. Creepy.”

“Maybe,” Dick says. He hasn't really decided. For all he knows, it's the only way to make sure Tim even gets any sleep.

“Dick - “

Dick leans over and tucks Tim in, grinning at the incredulous look that gets him, and drops a light kiss on Tim's forehead. 

“Did you just - “

“Get some sleep, Tim,” Dick says, standing up. 

The look on Tim's face is a mix of confusion, irritation, and the tiniest bit of fondness. “Dork,” he mumbles, not softly enough that Dick doesn't catch it. (Or the small smile on his face right before Dick closes the door to the bedroom.)

********

Dick's never been quite the culinary disaster people make him out to be. Sure, he's had his fair share of incidents, but who doesn't? The point is, he's not completely hopeless in the kitchen.

“Still here?” 

Looking over his shoulder Dick can't help the smile at the bleary look on Tim's face, hair a rumpled mess. (Rested.)

Dick shrugs. “Your couch is comfortable.”

Tim gives him a look for that, like maybe he thinks Dick is less stable than he lets on, and gingerly takes a drink of his coffee. “This is good,” he says, eyebrows going up in surprise.

And Dick. He doesn't take offense because it's early yet, and Tim isn't quite at his best before he's had his coffee. That, and it's something like a running gag with them, something familiar.

“You always say the nicest things,” Dick says, unable to help himself as he brushes hair out of Tim's eyes. “So what are your plans for the day?”

Tim looks at Dick over the rim of his mug, quiet, thoughtful. “...why?”

Dick has the feeling Tim's plans for the day involve work, and that's the last thing Tim needs at the moment. 

“Are you working on a case right now?”

The deeply suspicious look is back on Tim's face now. 

“No. Dick, what - “

“Perfect,” Dick says, plucking the mug from Tim's hand to steal a sip. “Because we're taking the day off.”

“What? _No_. Dick - “

“You, me. Bad movie marathon.” Dick hands the coffee mug back. “Like, horrifically bad movie marathon.” 

Dick leans back against the kitchen counter and waits. And then he waits some more, watching Tim thinking. Running through scenarios and options and probabilities, looking for the trick, the trap. He takes the opportunity to steal another sip of Tim's coffee, getting an annoyed eyebrow twitch for it.

“Well?” Dick asks after a few minutes have gone by.

Tim sighs, like dealing with Dick is a trial. “Fine.”

Dick grins, nudging Tim's shin. “This is going to be great, Tim, you're going to love it.”

Tim gives him a look that says, very clearly, he doubts the truth of Dick's words. 

“Famous last words,” he mutters as he reclaims his coffee, but there's a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth, amusement in his eyes.


End file.
